Chowder12

    Anxiety has always plagued me, for as long as I can remember. I would be perfectly safe and fine, lying down to go to bed. I would get a little idea in my head. the idea of what death is, and what it feels like. I imagine the idea of forever nothing, and that there is black. the weight of dark continued to press on my living soul, and I would freak out. I had to run from my dark room. I normally got up, screamed and ran outside into the cornfield that was behind our house. My parents would wake up and chase. they asked why I kept doing this, and I told them it's because I didn't want to die, which they never understood.    We have no co

Everything has it's place. If it's not in it's place it's not home. Sometimes we need to go out of our place just so we can remember how important where we belong is. people, just like objects have a place. some objects go everywhere, like cars and bikes. Others sit in a museum and stay there forever. But how would I describe myself if I were an object? I would be the stuffed animal that you pack in your bag, even though you don't really need to bring it along. It's there for comfort, and peace of mind. For safety and security in hard times, and for embarrassment when friends it. But we outgrow stuffed animals, and no longer need them after

I don't like to break the rules, But god knows that I love to exploit them. I hate having to deal with the consequence, But I really hate what people will think about me for breaking them. I like to get out of class for a bit just to walk around and be bored in a different place, so here is how you convince your teachers to let you leave, and still have them respect you. first thing first, throw away everything you know about getting away with things. It's all garbage and you suck at it. No more "My stomach hurts" or "My Grandma Died". That's a load of garbage and your people will see it from miles away. The real trick is to surprise them, b